


Dogwoods And Deviltry by Bonita del Rio

by Legion FanFic Archivist (Hanofer)



Category: Legion of Super-Heroes (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 07:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2340695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanofer/pseuds/Legion%20FanFic%20Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Era: GAP. The White Witch, Element Lad, and Brainiac 5 must solve a rather unique mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dogwoods And Deviltry by Bonita del Rio

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimers: All the usual disclaimers apply. The characters are not mine and no profit is being made! No infringement of copyright is intended.

  
  
  
---  
  
  


To the newcomers, all the storms were vicious and powerful events on the island. They came with little warning on high, turbulent winds the newcomers were learning to fear more than the strange, red-skinned people who chose to make them pay for the former settlers' crimes. To the natives of the Island, most storms were simply part of nature. Yet this one was different and made both the magicians and the priests wonder if something had angered the God itself and not just Its agents. Perhaps the other people's God was angry at His people and the storm's strange fierceness was His message. Lightning ripped and broke open the sky twice. If anyone looked over to the ocean, they would have seen three figures falling through a rip in the sky, as if the God had cast them out of paradise.

The ocean's salty coldness almost shocked the three into total helplessness, but the instinct to survive overrode the nervous systems' need to shut down in the two men and the woman. Jan Arrah half-inhaled a mouthful of water, spat it out, and altered what had entered his lungs into a nitrogen-oxygen mixture. Desperately, he used his power to sense chemical compositions to find his comrades' flight rings. He mentally called out to them, unsure if Brainiac 5 or the White Witch were wearing their telepathic plugs.

For a timeless moment, he received no answer. Jan stifled the instinct to shout, knowing he would not be heard over the wind and water. Then something made him look closer to land and he saw the White Witch's snowy hair tangle into a wave that was crashing down on the woman. To use a flight ring on a night like this--so far away from cover--was suicide. He thought he'd have to risk it until he saw silhouetted hands reach out and grab the water-weighted skirt of the Witch's tunic.

Jan whispered a heartfelt prayer of thanks to any god who was listening and added a prayer that Brainiac 5's force shield belt was working. A moment later, his extra sense was blind to the area his friends were. For once, he was glad of the force-shield's anti-psychic properties. The waves were forcing the trio to the beach, the belt was protecting the others. Now all Jan had to worry about was surviving the cold and violent ocean long enough to get to the island alive.

Dawn was a gray haze reflecting off the ocean. It penetrated through the force bubble and the haze of Brainiac 5's consciousness. There was a cold puddle of sea water at the bottom of the bubble, but the combined body heat of the Legionnaires warmed it somewhat. Mysa's pulse was soft and steady, like her breathing, but that was punctuated with an occasional shiver. Sickness was a real danger, unlike the atmosphere and any bruises they sustained before he activated the force shield around them. Finding Jan (or Jan's body) was also a top priority, and any other Legionnaire that might have been swept up by whatever had brought them here. That task was going to be difficult without functioning flight rings and telepathic plugs.

"Mysa, wake up. We have a great deal to do," he told her.

"Where are we, Brainiac 5?" Mysa asked. Even her bell-like voice was made rusty by the water.

Querl looked at the forest nearby and the beach. "I have no idea. I'll need a closer look at the flora."

"Just as long as no hungry fauna's looking at us." Mysa muttered and coughed.

Querl was trying to deactivate the force shield belt and was discovering an ugly truth. "The damn thing's broken!" He hissed in anger and astonishment. "Mysa, if you have a protection spell, now's a good time to use it," he advised. "I'm going to have to pull out the power unit if we're going to get out of here." Mysa murmured a few words and drew some sigils in the air before nodding to her green comrade, who set his jaw and yanked on a belt module. The field glimmered and died away.

As the pair struggled to their feet, Mysa explained, "The spell is designed as a proof against disease as well as injury. We should feel better soon."

"Will it protect any sentients we meet from the diseases we carry?" Brainiac 5 asked, remembering an innocent people who suffered from a plague he brought.

"Yes, but it cannot protect us against deliberate action."

Brainiac 5 nodded. "Our first priorities should be determining where we are and Element Lad's status. Then we also need to determine if there's anyone else--" As Brainiac stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes grew wide. "I'm so sorry..." he whispered in astonishment. Mysa looked down at what shocked Querl, and tugged at her halter top, which was around her waist. "I didn't realize--when I grabbed your skirt, I must have--" he motioned vaguely, his eyes still fastened on nipples the palest shade of pink.

"No apologies needed." Mysa answered softly, trying to work the wet material over her body. "You acted to save my life." As she glanced at him, she saw a deep green flush spread from his cheeks to the rest of his face and down his neck. Realization the he--the man who had seen every Legionnaire naked as a doctor--was embarrassed and still staring, embarrassed her and the pale pink that highlighted her features became a deep red.

A rustle came from the trees, accented by a guffaw that quickly became a deep belly laugh. Relief that he was still alive quickly changed into annoyance as Jan kept laughing at them. Tears were streaming from his eyes; he was laughing that hard.

"What's so funny?" Mysa scathed as she jerked the uncooperative material back into place.

"You two," Jan gasped out before he slid back into laughter. "You're like a couple of teenagers!"

The only defense Brainy could devise was to say that he was still a teenager by Coluan standards, but he knew that wouldn't quiet Jan. Instead he went up to the Tromian and ran his hands through Jan's blond hair. 

"What are you doing?" Jan asked.

"Checking for a concussion. You're obviously hysterical." Jan had to give Querl a long, hard look to make sure that his friend was joking. He started laughing again, but it was a laugh they all shared, and it celebrated the fact that they were reunited on this side of death.

Sobriety came quickly. There were too many unknowns for them to relax long. Mysa began to cast her protection spell over Jan. "We need to establish where we are, and what dangers there might be. We also don't know for sure that we're the only Legionnaires here," Brainiac 5 began.

"We're the only Legionnaires in the area; I checked for other flight ring elements," Jan offered. "I'd also like to know why and how we were abducted, and if the others are all right."

Those are low-priority considerations," Querl objected.

"Low priority?" Mysa almost shrieked.

With a slice of his hand, the green man stopped the protest. "We can't help them if we're dead. Although if we knew why we were brought here, it might help."

"I'm afraid he's right, Mysa. But that's not going to stop me worrying about them." Jan interceded smoothly. "I have some information that might prove useful. While I was checking for any others, I used my sense of chemical compositions and discovered there's no synthesized material around here. Also, neither my telepathic plug, transsuit, nor my flight ring are working."

"My force shield belt shorted just before you arrived. That could be bad if we're dealing with hungry animals or sentients that shoot first and don't bother to ask questions."

"That may not be as bad as you think, Brainiac. This world has not been stripped of its magic. It may be willing to treat us as guests and allow me to shape its arcane forces freely."

"That would rule out our being trapped in some sort of simulation," Jan thought out loud.

"If the Witch is right," Brainiac 5 amended.

"I'm right," Mysa answered coldly. "Even the youngest and least-gifted of apprentices has enough knowledge of geomancy to sense a world's power. "

Before Brainiac 5 could respond to the challenge in her tone, Jan interrupted. "We don't have time for this, people. If storms like that are a nightly occurrence, I want to be inland and in a shelter, if it's safe to build one. Brainy, why don't you check out the forest and see if you can recognize anything. Mysa can you _talk_ to the planet and try to discover where we are that way?"

"I'd like to make a suggestion in the interests of increasing our probability for survival," Brainiac 5 announced. "Jan, you serve as mission leader. Neither the Witch nor I have much training in survival skills, and your powers give you an edge even beyond the training."

Element Lad studied the pair a moment before saying, "All right. Both of you, find out what you can, but stay in visual range."

Querl motioned for Jan to accompany him to the edge of the beach. "There's another reason why I think you should be the mission leader, Jan. I've never had an easy time communicating with the Witch. Since we both rejoined, the breech in our communications is worse. We need a translator and a mediator between us. You're a logical choice."

"I'm the only other one here."

"Precisely," Brainiac smiled wryly," You're also an instinctive scientist and an accomplished philosopher. You'd be a logical choice, even if we were in Metropolis."

Jan was touched by the fact Brainiac 5 knew of his studies and thought highly of them, along with his leadership skills. "Thanks, Brainy. Now go find out where we are," he responded, and walked back to his watch-post between the pair, where he was sure he could reach either one if anything happened... he hoped. He watched Brainiac 5 squat down to look at some ground foliage and noted how careful the Coluan was to avoid touching it. Then he glanced at Mysa, floating in a lotus position, sifting the sands through her hands as it rose and fell in accordance to her spell. Suddenly, the sand faltered and fell to the ground in a heavy curtain, followed by the Witch. Jan was beside her in seconds, supporting her as she pushed herself to her knees.

"The planet is crying, Jan. Intelligent children of this world are in danger because of the contact with another group it will lead to the genocide of a proud culture and a varied people." Mysa gasped for a deep breath.

"Genocide?" Jan hissed. Was that concept going to plague him for the rest of his life?

"She would help us, if we would help her. She will allow me to tap into her magic. Then I won't have to craft my spell as carefully as I do back--back home, since I will not need to summon the arcane energies."

"What spells do you have ready, Mysa?"

"My general spells: The ones against disease, a shield spell, an offensive spell and a spell for comprehension. It will allow us to understand any sentients with whom we come in contact. It will also allow them to understand and perceive us in ways they will understand."

"Tell the world not to worry, Mysa; we'd help her even if she wasn't offering you use of her magic," Jan vowed as the humor was washed away from his face and replaced by a pale rage.

"No, we won't; we can't!" Brainiac 5 contradicted as he ran towards them.

"What are you saying?" the transmuter and the Witch demanded simultaneously.

Brainiac 5 held a branch with delicate, four-petalled flowers on them. "These are _Cornus florida,_ or dogwood; a tree common to the temperate regions of the eastern North American coast until they were destroyed in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries by pollution and blight. We're on Earth, in the Western hemisphere and there's no industrial development whatsoever, if Jan's right. We're in the past, Legionnaires, before the first Industrial Revolution. We don't dare take any decisive action; if we do, we could destroy our own history and everything we know."

"Is there a possibility you're wrong, Brainy?" Jan asked after a stunned silence.

"I think he's right, Jan, about where and when are. But how can you be certain, Brainiac 5, that we were not sent here to accomplish something?"

"I don't believe in fate, Witch. If we were sent here, I'd much rather know who did this than accept that we're supposed to act, no matter what the risk is to our reality."

Jan silenced the debate with a sudden hiss. "People are coming. Mysa, we need that comprehension spell now!"

"People?" Brainiac 5 asked.

"They're humanoid and they're wearing copper," Jan explained as the people approached. "And they're here."

Mysa hurriedly mouthed a few words and fluttered her hands in a pattern that meant nothing to anyone but her. The Legionnaires waited in silence for a tense moment before they saw the people of this land. To the Legionnaires' surprise, they were greeted by a group of American Indians and Caucasians during a period when the two groups should not have been friends. The latter were wearing loose, white homespun shirts that were stained with sweat and dirt, dark pants and heavy shoes. They were short and thin, even when compared to Mysa, but their step and movement revealed a wiry strength, a strength the Indians shared. They wore the copper jewelry and the leather breechcloths, a tacit admission to how hot the day would become. A couple of them wore birds in their hair and had animal designs on their breechcloths. These two were gesturing towards Mysa and excitedly whispering between themselves. One Indian was wearing a strange combination of the Europeans' homespun shirt and the breechcloth. He had more copper on his necklace and in his hair than the other Indians. He glanced at a European, who came forward and offered his open hand.

"I be Ananias Dare, formerly of London, now of the City of Raleigh in the colony of Virginia. He is Manteo, King of the Croatoan Indians, in the name of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth of England."

Brainiac 5 almost smiled in astonishment, pleased to discover that he didn't need the White Witch's spell to understand the timid welcome. He also had an answer to when they were, within a forty-five year range. What confused him was the fact that the city of Raleigh he was familiar with would not be established until 1792.

He was eager to share his deductions, but Jan needed to concentrate on the potential danger. On one hand, the Tromian had to say and do the right things to gain the motley group's trust; on the other hand, he had to be ready with his powers, since he was the only defense to any immediate danger.

Jan took Ananias's hand in a grip he hoped was not too firm. The Indians tensed, obviously knowing a bit more about hand-to-hand combat than their friends. "My name is Jan; this is my sister, Mysa, and my partner, Querl. We were fishing and thought to come here to find unfished waters when we were caught by the storm...."

A few heads nodded in sympathy. "They can be sudden and deadly round here, though I have never seen he likes of last night." Manteo responded in a lightly accented English. He saw the Legionnaires' surprise. "Of course I speak the Queen's language, if I speak for the Queen to my people."

"And has England conquered these lands?"

Ananais smiled bitterly. "You've not been in contact with Europe lately, have you? No, we're supposed to be a base for our privateers when they need supplies against the Spaniards. But that damned Portuguese stole everything that he could use for his pirating, so we're without supplies now. If it were not for Manteo and his people, we would've starved this past Winter."

"Ananias, they don't need to hear of our problems. Let's take them back to Raleigh and get them a warm meal and a fire to sit beside so they can rest. It's the only Christian thing to do."

The European spokesman grimaced. "Andy's right. You should come and stay with us until you can decide what to do about your situation. If you wish, you can stay with us."

"Wait, Ananais! How do you know these aren't Papist spies?"

Jan glanced at Brainiac 5 "Papist?" he mouthed.

"Catholic," Querl whispered in return.

"I will swear to you, none of us holds allegiance to the Pope," Jan said, "but we can't accept your hospitality, since you've had such a bad year."

The thought of being outside for another night almost made Mysa paler than she normally was. Even Querl wondered what Jan was thinking, but the Tromian's gamble proved successful, for Ananais said, "Don't be foolish, that was Winter; this is Spring. Our good Croatoan friends are providing for us and teaching us to hunt with their primitive weapons."

"Why aren't you using matchlocks?" Brainiac 5 asked.

"What else would a privateer want but ordinance? He didn't even leave our smith with his tools so he could make nails, let alone musket balls."

The colonists and the natives began to lead the Legionnaires to Raleigh when Mysa noticed the pair wearing birds were still discussing her. "Excuse them, Lady, but they wonder if you work with witchcraft or are of witchcraft," Manteo translated.

"I...know something of magic," Mysa answered vaguely. Didn't they burn witches in this century? "Why?"

"I don't quite understand them, but they are astounded by you. They have never seen a conjurer bound to a snow moth spirit before, let alone a conjurer bound so strongly that she has taken the physical characteristics of her Spirit Mentor."

It was Mysa's turn to be astounded by the Indians. "Do-do you see what they are talking about. My lord?" she asked in fear that her spell was imperfect.

"I don't, but they are gifted by the God in ways I never shall be."

Mysa hid her sigh of relief and hurried to Jan's side. The colonists were asking questions about their fleet as they led their new acquaintances to the city. Had the fisherman seen any British ships? No, answered Jan, the routes were too far apart. How long had it been since the Englishmen had seen their ships? Over a year since Ananias's father-in-law had gone to England to beg for more provisions, and they feared the worst. An uncomfortable silence fell and it was intensified as they neared the palisade that surrounded the tiny town. The Legionnaires were warriors, no matter what their preference, and they saw the signs of war: The walls were pitted with holes that were embedded with shell and an occasional metal arrowhead; there was the permanent smell of chemicals, and rust-colored stains splattered the walls and dappled the ground nearby.

As they entered the city, they found a small, primitive English village of one-room cottages. They were built of sturdy clay and thatched roofs. "I was hoping to make Eleanor and my little Ginny a magnificent brick home, the kind the landowners have in London. Now they have a thatched hut. Maybe someday..." Ananais said wistfully.

A woman shouted to the town that the hunting party returned with proper Christian guests, and the town ran to see the new faces. Instantly there were more questions about Europe directed towards Jan and Querl. They knew no more than Mysa did, and envied the fact that she was not being asked questions with no answers.

A man with thick, black hair and beard gently took Mysa's hand and kissed it with a low bow. "I am Van Sabitch, Lady. I am the apothecary here. I am also quite pleased to make your acquaintance."

With a shy smile, Mysa introduced herself. "Tell me, Mr. Sabitch, where are you from? You have an unusual accent for an Englander."

"Originally, I was from Croatia. But I lived in the Czech lands for many years before signing on with John White's company."

"Really? I--and my colleague--we have an interest in herblore. I would be most interested in comparing notes with you."

"I would enjoy that, Mysa. Perhaps we could go on a gathering expedition together?" Van suggested. Then he saw Element Lad using the difference in their heights to loom protectively over his "sister". "With the proper chaperone, of course," Van amended hastily.

As Mysa glared at the Tromian, Ananais came up to them and said, "Eleanor says you're to stay in her father's cottage. John White was never a man to turn away a stranger in need. All we ask is that you do not damage his possessions. That's the one promise he demanded before he left for England."

"Your father-in-law is the colonial governor?" Brainiac 5 asked excitedly.

"Yes. He was also one of four men to forge our relationship with the Croatoans."

"I would love to see some of his research...and possibly a copy of the colonial charter?"

Ananais nodded. "Please don't damage his books," he stressed.

Querl agreed and almost pushed Ananais out of the way when they arrived at White's house. "Where are the papers?" he asked intensely.

"In the trunk--" Ananais began, but Querl grabbed the key off the rough-hewed desk and opened the trunk. A breath of excitement escaped him as he almost reverently reached for White's books and journals.

"You'll have to forgive my partner," Jan began in a tone that was two-thirds amusement and one-third exasperation. "His need for knowledge is only exceeded by his need to breathe."

"He'd have gotten along well with John and Manteo then," Ananais responded. "I'll see about Eleanor getting you some food."

"Thank you, Ananais, for everything," Jan said. As their benefactor left, Jan looked at his friend who was already flipping through a book. "Tacky, Brainy, really tacky."

"Um? Oh, sorry, Element Lad. Mysa, there's a section on native magic you may want to read while we're here."

"Thank you, Querl," Mysa answered. She was studying a curious conglomeration of glass spheres filled with water that surrounded a candle. "It seems White was one to burn the midnight oil, literally. Querl, it's daylight; could you please read outside? I need to talk to Jan for a few minutes."

The Coluan slammed the book shut. "I'll have to. The Shakespearean English is no problem, but the man's handwriting is." He picked up the chair and took it outside, oblivious to the silence he left.

"Well, we should know something of our situation in a few hours," Jan muttered in an attempt to break the silence.

Mysa heard Jan's words and the impatience in them as she looked out the paneless window. The impatience matched a mood in her own soul. She kicked at the ground she was forced to trod upon and turned to her "brother". "Jan, I need to speak with you. "

"Go ahead."

"Privately."

"I think this is as private as we get, Mysa."

She looked at Querl, totally absorbed in his quest for knowledge and decided it would not be too bad to speak in pure Interlac. "Why am I suddenly your sister?" she demanded crossly.

"It would've been hard to ascribe that relationship to Querl," Jan answered mildly.

"Don't mock me! I'm sister to one overpowering, overprotective Legionnaire, and I have a right to know why I've been placed in this situation to another!"

He studied her in the small building. She was crouched and tense, like a captured felon or an animal, and realized how much he had pained her. After moving towards her slowly, he gently took her shoulders. Eyes that were the blue serenity of the calm Gulf Stream looked into ones that were the color and intensity of fire. "I'm sorry I caused you discomfort, Mysa. I truly am. All I really knew is that we were on Earth in the past, and the Terrans have had some strange sexual mores. I didn't know how they'd react to a woman being...unattached and with two men. Frankly, the laws governing marriage confound me in our own time! Calling you my sister seemed to be the safest option."

Mysa turned away. "Of course. I should have thought of that. So what do we do now?"

"We rest and wait until Brainy has some information for us."

"And then what? Do we let a man who used another as a murder weapon make our policy?"

"Whoa. I agree with you about the way the group handled everything about the Time Trapper, especially the use of Rugarth under the guise of 'previous consent', to the seeking of the total destruction of the Trapper. I censured Brainiac 5 during the trial. However, we both have to admit there are different moralities than the ones we were raised to believe and we have to accept them. We've both lost our worlds, Mysa."

"If we can return to our time, Element Lad, you will be wrong. The planet of Zerox is gone. but the Sorcerers have claimed a new world. It will simply be a matter of wishing to find it."

"I see. I'm glad for you, Mysa," he answered, unconsciously drawing away from her.

"Jan, what will you do if we're stuck in this era?"

"I haven't considered it," he answered truthfully. "We're both exhausted. Why don't you take the bed?" He saw the fire in her eyes again. "I'm not trying to be gallant! You're the only one of us short enough to use the damn thing!"

Brainiac 5 walked through the doorway, dragging the chair behind him and set it by the window. "It's getting too hot and humid out there," he complained.

Jan was born on the radiation-rich world of Trom and raised near the River Avri. He smiled slightly as he found a smooth spot on the ground and admitted, "I hadn't noticed."

"You know, if you sleep on the ground, that outfit is bound to get awfully dirty," Mysa advised.

"It's already been trashed by the storm. While white may look good on me, it sure doesn't keep well," Jan agreed and created a thin mat on which to sleep. "I think I'll go back to one of my old uniforms when we return."

"Hopefully one with long gloves and boots?" Mysa inquired.

"Probably."

"Oh, good. Those were my favorites," she managed to slur before she started to softly snore. Neither of them noticed Brainiac's grimace.

Jan slept fairly well that night. He was awakened by Brainiac once to light the candle whose light was amplified by the water in the glass bowls. Only when the darkness of the sky faded into light gray, when a wolf howled farewell to its time of dominance, did Jan start awake. The cry he heard, he reasoned logically, was some sort of wild canine. But in his dream it was Pol Krinn's death scream.

Pol accepted the responsibility Jan claimed for his own, but balked at when the moment came. The Braalian offered himself as sacrifice to free the Sorcerer's World from the Archmage's spell, and disintegrated before their eyes. He begged them to tell Rokk that he had finally proven himself, never realizing that he had proved himself dozens of times before. Jan had to live with the fact that Pol died in his place.

Survivor's guilt is what Imra called it; the sense that you should have died when others did, the sense that you were living on time stolen from friends and family. Jan lived with that feeling all of his adult life and was ready to die if it would save another person from any suffering. But so did Pol, and when the time came, Jan--for the first time--wanted to live. He was a living ghost with no future. No family or any potential of one, would give him any cause to live beyond the Legion. But he wanted to live anyway and waited for someone to talk him out of being the sacrifice. Pol simply acted. However, Pol had a father and brother who needed him and cared for him. In his future there would have been men and women to love, children to sire and raise, lives to contribute to; not just rescue and leave. Because Jan waited that future was gone. One more death for a living ghost to survive.

Mysa awoke when Jan left the cottage and roused herself when he did not return after a while. She saw Brainiac 5 asleep at the table, his head resting in his arms. A slight smile crossed her lips. How many times had she fallen asleep at her studies? Perhaps she and the Coluan were not so different after all, she mused, except in what they held sacred. Before she left, she pinched out the flame in a practiced gesture. Then she looked for Jan.

In the half-light, the Tromian made an eerie sight as he wandered around the abandoned streets in his white uniform. She glided to him gently and called his name. He stopped and woodenly turned to her. His eyes were dark and lost. "What's wrong?" she asked, wishing he would let her hug him; or at least hold his hand; anything to remind him of life and warmth.

"Ah nothing, I just got cramped and--"

"And you're a horrible liar when you're like this." Mysa chimed in. "Truth, Jan."

"I was missing our absent friends. So many of us have died in the last few months. Kal, Quislet, Mon..."

"And Pol? Jan, I know the spell of the Lock and Key. It's an ancient and powerful necromantic spell. The only way to destroy it is through a sentient's death. What you didn't know--and what the Elders didn't tell us--was that they knew how to defeat the Archmage by simply allowing our world's destruction. For all you knew, the Archmage had us captured and helpless. Pol's way was the only way to discover the truth. He did not die in vain."

"It wasn't necessarily Pol's way," Jan protested softly through unshed tears.

"Ah, I understand now. When the universe creates someone as...unique as yourself, there's a reason for it. It needs you to do great things and it won't let you die until you're done. Saving a planet marked for death isn't what you needed to do."

"But is it what Pol needed to do?" Jan asked bitterly.

"Yes," was Mysa's quiet answer. "Sometimes innocence is the price paid for knowledge."

A little girl, wearing only a doeskin wrap around her waist, toddled over to them and Mysa quickly resumed her touch with the Earth. Moments later, the girl's mother, in her sturdy English homespun, joined them. "Good morn, Mysa and Jan. I trust you're better for having slept?"

"Yes, thank you, Mrs.--"

"Dare. I be Ananias's wife, Eleanor. No, don't apologize for not remembering. You were introduced to a great deal yesterday. We have some fruit and bread for you. Would you like some fish from the Croatoan village? I'm taking Virginia there to play with the other children." Another person shouted good morning and Eleanor turned her head and greeted Van Sabitch. The apothecary was outfitted for field work with a leather pouch, a small trowel and an elegant crossbow. "Root digging again, Mr. Sabitch?" she asked.

"Yes, as always." He smiled infectiously through his beard. Mysa and Jan found themselves returning it.

Virginia pulled at her mother's hand and babbled a mixture of English and Croatoan syllables in irritation. "Well, it seems Mistress Virginia made an appointment with her savage friends and she musn't be late!" Eleanor laughed as she pulled her daughter into her arms.

"You mentioned an interest in herblore, Mistress Mysa," Sabitch recalled. "Would you care to accompany me?"

The Witch looked at Jan. Here was a chance to learn about plants that could be useful in spell casting.

Jan leaned over and whispered, "You will emasculate him if he tries anything?"

Mysa laughed. "My...brother gives his permission. Mr. Sabitch." The older man offered his arm and the two left together.

"You sister is overbold, methinks," Eleanor softly criticized.

"Would you or the Croatoans mind if came to the village with you? I would like to see the way the natives live," Jan asked.

For a long moment, Eleanor studied him. The paranoia that was in all these people bubbled to the surface. "They may be godless heathens, Jan, but they are our friends. Without them, we wouldn't have survived this long. I'll not have you exploiting them."

"I wouldn't dream of it. The curiosity that makes my sister and friend forget their manners is also a part of me, but it will make me remember mine."

"Very well, then. Come with me and we'll ask Manteo."

Jan thanked her and allowed her to lead. _Besides, it will give me a chance to learn more about the situation we've been stuck in._ As they walked into a wild field, they passed Mysa and Van, who waved at them.

Van was pulling up plants and saying their names and properties. Mysa found herself paying more and more attention to Van himself. She was fascinated by his deep baritone and the way his accent changed the rhythm of his words. She also watched how his breathing made his broad, hair-covered chest expand and contract, and the way his nostrils flared. Suddenly Mysa was aware of what she was doing and looked towards the trees. She saw the beautiful four-petalled flowers on the thick-leafed branches.

"What are these, Van?" she asked as she walked towards them.

"They have no English name nor medicinal value. Maybe White or Hariot named them on their first trip here, but I never heard it." As Mysa reached up to pick a branch with a few blossoms, Van recommended against it. "The others consider them God's sign in this strange land. They might consider such an action sacrilege."

"Oh," Mysa responded, a little embarrassed and disappointed. "I guess we should get back to work. "

Van then led her to another plant and began to explain about it. Mysa tried to listen to the information, but could not concentrate. Then Van stopped talking and reached for his crossbow. Mysa's talents warned her and she pushed the weapon aside before he could fire at the half-naked men approaching them. "They're Croatoan!" she snapped.

In fact, they were the two conjurers that had gawked at Mysa a day before. "Please excuse the intrusion. You do understand us, yes? Ah, I see that you do. As I was saying, please excuse the intrusion," the older one began again, "but we have a gift for you, White Witch. We could not let such a powerful Speaker for the Spirits walk without an emblem of her honor." The younger one slowly, almost timidly, came forward and held out his hands. In them was a headdress made of a freshly killed cardinal and unripe berries of purple and pink.

Although it saddened her a little to think someone killed such a beautiful red bird for her, she admired the design of the piece and marveled at the complexity of the preserving spell. "Thank you, fellow magickers," she answered simply.

"Our wives would be happy to style it into your hair," one of them offered.

"In fact, I think they'd be very upset if you didn't. They loved the idea of hair such as yours: As white as snow and flowing like a waterfall," the other added.

Mysa laughed shyly, nervously. Rarely did she receive such an invitation on either Naltor or the Sorcerers' World. "I would like that. but I have to ask my...brother."

"Of course." The conjurers nodded slightly. "Maybe he will visit our village again during that time. And maybe your friend will come."

"The one from your boat," the other clarified as he watched for a threatening move from Van. Mysa would have had to have been blind and oblivious to miss Van's barely concealed snarl.

"I will convey your invitation to Jan and Querl. Thank you," Mysa promised and watched the two shamen disappear back into the woods.

"Savages! Filthy uncouth savages! How dare they give you that stinking, rotten bird!" Van snarled as he turned towards her. He almost succeeded in knocking the headdress from her hands.

"It can't stink. Van. It's been preserved. It's a badge of honor among their people. I'm flattered to have received it," she responded, her coolness hiding her anger. Van conquered his anger after a bit of a struggle. He apologized and explained that the recent attacks by other Indians made him edgy. Then he smiled and she felt her anger melt away. However, she also discovered it was somehow easier to study the flora the rest of the day.

Mysa was pensive and distant when Van brought her home as dusk colored the sky. She thanked him for what she learned and agreed with him when he suggested that perhaps they should go on an outing again. As she walked in, Brainiac 5 bounded up to her.

"Are you all right?" he demanded.

"Yes," she responded, nonplussed at his behavior.

"Where have you been? Jan's been back for over an hour!"

"Only because Eleanor had to help prepare dinner," Jan explained to the pair. Then he focused on Mysa. A quiet excitement animated his features. "Brainy's determined when we are. Since we have to decide our next course of action, I thought we should wait for you."

"We have only one course of action; I explained that to you," Brainiac 5 countered. "Surely you're not going to see him again?"

"Who I see--or don't see--is no business of yours, Brainiac 5!" Mysa retorted with a toss of her head. The long white tresses shimmered in the candlelight, and gold ripples eddied down them.

"It's a foolish move--getting involved with someone from the past," Querl explained.

"Oh, and you mean to say that there were no benefits in your association with Kara Zor-El?"

"I mean to say it's stupidity to get involved with someone who will be dead and dust centuries before you'll be born!"

"There may be a major difference this time," Mysa suggested. "We may be stranded here."

"Then don't get involved with him," Brainiac 5 stressed.

"Why not? "

"Because...I don't like the man."

Disbelief and then a mischievous grin played across Mysa's face. "Is this an instinctive dislike? The great rationalist is going on a gut feeling? Truly, this must be the Age of Miracles!"

Jan began rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. He had been stung by Mysa's tongue before, and lost so many arguments with the Coluan that he almost always pulled rank during his leadership days, just so he could get a word in sideways. Was he going to have to throw cold water on these two to get their cooperation?

"He invited you to trample on these people's customs, he took you out all day without one provision for your well-being, and he leers at you like you're some sort of...delicacy!" Querl listed hotly.

Jan slid deeper in the chair in a reflexive look at the thatched ceiling, and silently wished Shvaughn was there and giving his steel-hard shoulders a massage. "Has it occurred to you that I'm enough of a Naltorian woman where I might like to have a man look at me that way?" Brainiac 5's silence signaled her victory. "Will you two excuse me? I'd like some of that dinner Jan mentioned."

As she floated to the door, Jan said, "We need to confer. Could you return as soon as you can? Please?" Mysa nodded and walked to the town square as Jan asked the ceiling, "Was it the Earthers that called jealousy a 'green-eyed monster'?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" Brainiac 5 contested.

"Why don't you tell her how you feel?" Jan asked his friend.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Querl snapped and stormed out of the door.

"Of course not," Jan agreed with him wearily. Then he hauled himself out of the chair and went after his longtime colleague.

"She's the most infuriating woman I've ever met!" Querl growled.

"At least as stubborn as you are," Jan clucked in sympathy.

"She's dogmatic, she's irritating, perfectly sure what she knows is right..."

"Built like--how did Kal phrase it?-- a brick house."

Querl's eyes widened in disbelief. "How can you say that, Jan? She's a fellow Legionnaire!"

Jan softly chuckled. "One: I remember yesterday morning. Two: I've looked at your ass several times as well. Seriously, Brainy, is there a law against acknowledging the beauty and attraction of your friends?" The green flush colored Querl Dox's face again. "And has it occurred to you that Mysa is every bit as brilliant in her fields as you are in yours?"

"Fields that are totally illogical, physically impossible and based on the precepts of faith!"

"Querl, I understand your frustration, but maybe, just maybe, Mysa hears mockery. Have you simply talked to her? Told her about the attraction you feel for her?"

"Why would she listen to a being she considers a skeptic, a ruthless manipulator and a murderer?"

"Then show her the man. The man who endlessly wonders about the universe, the one who hid his plans from his friends to protect them and sacrificed what he held dear to stop a mad, godlike creature from destroying us all. You've done it before. Now pull yourself together. I need the Legionnaire when we get back to the cottage."

"You'll have him," Brainiac vowed.

When they returned, Mysa was licking her spoon. It was a lazy, sensual sort of gesture that seemed calculated when Mysa's sister did it, but it seemed so natural that it almost unnerved Querl.

"You ready for work?" Jan asked.

Mysa nodded, setting down the bowl and spoon with a clatter. "The stew was just what I needed."

"Good. So tell us, Brainy, just when are we?"

"It's mid-May in the year 1588 or 1589. There's a little girl somewhere around here. I could be more exact if saw her."

"Virginia's almost two," Jan supplied.

"1589, then. Almost a year since England broke Spanish control of the seas and over a year before Shakespeare's first play."

"So what's going to happen to these people?" Jan asked.

Brainiac 5 looked at the floor for a moment. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Jan repeated in astonishment.

"The first recorded colony from England in the Western Hemisphere is Jamestown, which will be established in twenty years, during the time King James rules. There is no record of an English colony during Elizabeth I's rule. All I can think of is that they weren't successful."

"And?" Mysa prompted.

"And that's it. Killed by starvation and/or war, most likely. Maybe they integrated with the Croatoans."

"Croatoan...Croatian..." Mysa began musing. "It's interesting that both these words are in play here"

"Why? From what Sabitch said, he's more of a Czech than a Croat," Brainiac 5 inquired. 

"They're both derived from the Atlantean language. In fact, a _croaat_ is part of a powerful demon-binding spell."

"Coincidence, surely," Brainiac 5 dismissed.

"In magic, there is no such thing as a coincidence. Besides, Van has a powerful magical presence. Whether he knows or not is a question."

"He does?" Jan tasted the thought and found it bitter. "He also is fairly radioactive."

"There are a lot of natural radioactive areas on Earth, Jan. Van could have lived near one."

"Or he could be metahuman," Jan offered.

Brainiac 5 grimaced. "That could be a possibility. However, I'm not sure any of this is relevant to the discussion."

"Isn't it odd for a Croatian, a Czech, or whatever, to be included in an English colony?" Mysa pressed.

"Unusual? Yes. Odd? No. He's an apothecary; he's probably hoping to discover a new wonder drug he can export to Europe and become filthy rich. And this discussion is still not relevant to the situation."

"Maybe we are getting a little ahead of ourselves," Jan agreed uneasily. "We know where and when we are, but not how or why. A sentient has asked for our help in saving the lives of a group of people. Who are these people we've been asked to save? We have no information."

"The American Indians," Mysa answered with great certainty.

"Are you sure?" Brainiac 5 challenged. "Yes, history tells us that the Amerind population was nearly wiped out through their first century of Caucasian contact, due to the superior weapons technology and the diseases. However, what if these colonists go back to Europe with some new disease for that population? The plagues killed millions over there as well. If the balance of history is disrupted, we could cause the total annihilation of one or both races, which in turn would cause a time paradox: one which could destroy everything we've ever known. Simply put, we don't have enough knowledge to act without endangering the universe; therefore we dare not act at all."

"Brainy, has it occurred to you that we might be here for that very reason? To make history right?"

"Then what path do we take, Mysa? We have no information to act on."

Mysa began to twist her fingers in her white hair as She fell silent. "Perhaps we are expected to make the choice..."

"By whom?" Jan asked softly.

"I'm not sure...someone who's almost godlike...who likes games perhaps, and can move people throughout time...sound like anyone we know?" she asked Querl as she awoke from her momentary trance.

Green eyes glared at her. "The Infinite Man is not a gameplayer, and he is the only being extant who can move objects through time the way we were."

"Are you sure? Could we mere mortals truly destroy the avatar--the god if you will--of time itself? You must admit. it's HIS modus operandi to toss people into history to see what they will do."

"I admit it's his m.o.; I don't admit he had a part in our presence here! The Time Trapper is dead, Mysa! I saw his destruction myself."

"As well as oversaw it," she added.

Querl fumed. "The Trapper used us as toys! He enslaved Kal and killed him, imprisoned Mon-El for 1,000 years before killing him, misdirected our researches when he wasn't confounding them, and created the lie that we were actually capable of time travel! He made of mockery of my accomplishments and motivations!"

"He also created the universe we visited when we saw Kal and Kara; he gave us those cousins before he took them away," Mysa countered softly. She stood to walk towards him, and felt Jan's warning touch on her arm. She ignored it and knelt beside the scientist, oblivious to the dirt that was dusting her robe. "I'm sorry, Querl. I too have had my studies corrupted, the truths I lived by undermined, my accomplishments destroyed. That's when I fell in with The Devil's Dozen--when I had no prospects or hopes left. But I ask you to think on this: the Trapper created a universe, albeit a small one. Could such a being be destroyed without the eventual destruction of Nature's order? If you're right about the Trapper, then all reality may pay for your vengeance, and the Magic Wars were just the beginning."

"The Trapper is dead," Brainiac 5 reasserted, but he was close to tears.

"Then maybe it's someone very much like him. The laws of Balance would demand another avatar of time."

"Even if the speculation is correct, especially if it's correct, we have to decide on a course of action, Legionnaires. Do we act--and if so--how?" Element lad asked.

Querl shook his head. "There are still too many variables and unknowns. We can't act."

"There is no such thing as coincidence, Jan. We are here, at the beginnings of North American colonization, with a plea to stop not only a slaughter, but a genocidal action. Whether the agents of our placement brought us here because of malicious gameplaying, or a need to correct history should not affect our answer. If it's the latter, it's our sacred trust; if it's the former, our choices will be what is of interest. Once the game is done, we will be returned to our own time or left to our own devices."

"Marooned," Brainiac corrected bitterly.

"Perhaps," Mysa agreed uneasily.

Jan was staring at the ground between his feet. It was carbon, nitrogen and oxygen-rich, good for growing crops. He watched as the electrons melded and blended with each other's orbits as he considered his comrades' words. "Everything's connected," he began after a long silence. "The way I was raised and my every glance at molecular structures tell me that. We're here and we have a responsibility, no matter what the risk is to us."

"It's not just to us, Jan! There's a question of our entire reality!" Brainiac 5 reminded him.

"Mysa, these laws you spoke of, would they demand a balance of heroes as well?"

"Yes."

"Brainy, we can't ignore the danger innocent people are in. We have to stop the madness before it claims another race. No one should have to die that way, or live through that. Will you work with us, even though you disagree with our course?"

Brainiac 5 though for a moment. "I don't know. It rankles to do nothing when I know what's being planned. Yet I believe that acting could well destroy almost everything we know unless we make the right decisions to cause history to occur as it should."

"Are you familiar with the concept of Karma, Brainy?" Jan asked the man who had been a sparring partner and a confidant for over a decade.

"A belief in fate: one which indicates one's actions will be balanced by events in one's future, possibly another life. Why did you want to know if I was familiar with that?"

"I remember being briefed on a journey you and Dawnstar took to another lost colony, and how you started a plague there. Despite your repeated attempts to gain permission to return and help the remainder of those people, the U.P. has denied you a chance to redress your innocent action. Now here you are, at another lost colony which desperately needs help..."

Brainiac 5 rose and walked towards his colleague. As you spoke, he pointed at Jan, his voice harsh with emotion. "You're very, very good at this. You know I don't believe in karma, per se, but you do know what the U.P.'s denial has cost me. I'll help, but do you have any ideas where you want to start?"

Jan stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. "How about with the next largest anomaly next to ourselves? You two have given me enough reason to see him without snooping. Mysa, contact the Earth spirit and tell her we'll help, but we'll probably need her magic. If Van has any protection spells, you need to neutralize them in such a way where he won't know they're gone. Also, is there any kind of spell that can tell what a person is--where they have been?"

"A psychometry spell," Brainiac 5 supplied. Mysa nodded in confirmation.

"Will you use it on Van tomorrow?"

"If I can. He may have protection spell against that."

"Be careful then. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have a devil of a headache." Jan walked outside into the humid air and breathed deeply. The air reminded him of Trom and made him homesick as he walked into the apothecary's. As he got to the door, he banged on the door frame.

"Good eve, Jan," Sabitch greeted.

"Good evening yourself. I was wondering if I might trouble you for a headache potion."

Van chuckled softly. "I was wondering if I'd see you. The entire village heard their arguing. Your sister has a lot of fire," Van admired.

"Yes, that she does," Jan agreed, "And those two argue about everything."

Van nodded in sympathy and turned to concoct a pain reliever. While he was distracted, Jan concentrated on his surroundings. Just below the comforting confines of clay and wood, were the steel alloy and gold wire of machines. Near the machines were glass tubes in various shapes and sizes Van poured his customer a small cup of a foul-smelling potion.

Jan looked at the concoction doubtfully. "I think I should tell you that I have no trade for this."

"Ah, but you do," Van corrected. "I lost my temper with your sister today. I would like it if you could convince her to give me a chance to apologize."

"I'll see what I can do. Why don't you come by the governor's house tomorrow? I may have convinced her by then."

"I'll do that." He pushed the cup towards Jan. "Drink up."

Jan grimaced and swallowed the potion after he sensed nothing in it could poison him. Then he thanked Van and went to report to the others.

"You said what?" Mysa shouted.

"Brainy and I need a look at his equipment. If he's with you we don't need to worry about any interruptions. And it will give you a chance to perform the psychometry spell we talked about."

"I don't like this! You've cast me in the role of a spy! "

"Mysa, he may be what we're here to stop. You have to!" Jan insisted.

"I don't want to see him again! He's a bigot!"

"All the colonists are ethnocentric to some degree. It's part of the mindset of the sixteen-century human," Brainiac 5 explained.

"I'll do this, but under protest," Mysa agreed.

Jan put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead. "That's all I ask. Let's get some sleep, folks. Mornings come awfully early around here."

Early the next day, Van called on Mysa. He brought a basket full of bread, wine and cheese. As they walked out of the town, Brainiac 5 and Element Lad stole into Van's house. With the Tromian's powers, it was no problem to discover the trap door or to open it. As they walked down the three stairs they saw the flickering lights of a computer. Querl studied it and discovered the Atlantean symbols for screens and lights. As he looked around, he asked his teammate, "What's in the test tubes?"

"Life molecules. I could analyze their exact composition, but it would take a lot of time," Jan replied.

"Don't bother," Querl told him, sitting on the one chair in the sunken room. After he pushed up his sleeves to his elbows, he touched the ancient keyboard and watched the screen come to life. "The Atlanteans always believed in making a product last forever; it's good to see their land-bound ancestors did too. Now it shouldn't take that long to decipher a base-12 language, should it?"

Van generously allowed Mysa to pick the picnic site and she almost ran back to her favorite trees. "You really like these things, don't you?" Van asked in bemusement.

"They have an elegance in their simplicity, don't you think? Ooh, how'd I love to take some home with me!"

"I told you--"

"Don't worry, Van. I won't pick them." As she turned away from the flowers, a squirrel attempted to jump from tree to tree and grabbed a blossom-filled branch too slender to hold him. He fell to the ground and indignantly swore before running up the tree trunk. Mysa turned and saw the broken branch at her feet. It was a symbol of the pact Earth had with the unwilling time travelers.

"Maybe I shouldn't have assigned Mysa to spy on Van," Jan muttered to himself as Brainiac 5 was studying a hologram of a DNA molecule and the notes that appeared beside it, totally oblivious to the fact Jan had spoken.

"This is elegant bio-engineering," he declared in admiration. "Sick, but elegant."

"What is it?"

"It's _Pastuerella pestis_ , bubonic plague. It's also encoded to activate only if there's a certain pigmentation in the host."

"Does he have virulent samples?" Jan asked, glancing at the rows of glass containers.

The Coluan checked with the computer. "Oh, yeah," he answered as he closed the file and began studying another one.

"What are you doing?" Jan almost yelled. "I have enough information to know that we have to destroy this place!"

"Give me a few minutes," Brainiac 5 requested. "He's got a file on that little girl--"

"Virginia--"

"--Virginia. Here's some prenatal research; in this century! Would you believe it?" His voice trailed off as he opened another file with a representation of a DNA molecule. "Martyrs of the Revolution! That's a metagene display! He's using the colonists as breeding stock for a super-powered cadre!"

"Who is this guy?" Jan whispered in shock.

"I'm working on that. We have his plans for continental and possibly world domination, his radiation background, the potential magical abilities and the ancient equipment..." Brainy was silent again until he bolted out of the chair. "The sheer arrogance of the man! To flaunt his very identity in front of everyone! Van Sabitch is Vandal Savage: The same one who challenged the Flashes and the Justice Society of America! He was a Neolithic sentient who was exposed to an energy that literally made him unkillable. This must be one of his earlier attempts at world domination."

"Have you seen enough yet?" Jan asked, clearly angry.

"Yes," Querl replied as he walked away from the computer room.

"Good. I'm going to make sure nothing is salvageable."

"Jan, if we're going to be stranded here, I'd rather save the computer."

"Querl, there's no guarantee that we're the ones who survive this fight. I'd rather help you build a new one than let Van have a chance to retrieve his files."

Querl shrugged. "I hate to admit it, but you're right. Let's make sure that no one gets hurt by this more than they already are."

After checking the neighboring houses to make sure no one was there, the pair found cover. Then Jan began to increase the oxygen level in the house until the constantly burning candles in the house sparked and exploded. The fire and smoke leapt and ran into the sky.

Across the field, Van and Mysa felt the explosion roar in their ears. As Van looked up and saw the fireball, he pushed himself to his feet. "What in God's Name has happened?" he bellowed. He grabbed Mysa's arm and began dragging her back to Raleigh, despite her protests that he was hurting her. Others from all around, including the Croatoan village, came running to discover what happened. When Van and Mysa arrived, a small crowd, with Jan and Querl in front, was watching the flames consume the apothecary.

"That wasn't very subtle," Brainiac 5 criticized slightly.

"Screw subtlety," Jan answered curtly. "I wanted to be positive everything was destroyed."

"Who did this!" Van demanded, looking at the pair of blonds. "None of these sheep would have considered doing this!"

The crowd grew louder as it backed away, except for Jan and Querl. Vandal Savage raised his hand at the only men who were defying him and barked an arcane word. Indigo lightning flashed from his fingertips, striking the Tromian. Jan spasmed in agony. Querl backed away, hoping the lightning was enough like the natural phenomenon and he was trained enough for his plan to work. He took a flying leap, insulated boots first, and knocked his friend out of the deadly nimbus. Vandal Savage pointed towards him and Querl rolled and dodged the lightning. Once.

Within the stunned crowd, Eleanor Dare grabbed a man. "Will Smyth, get your rifle, man!"

"Are you daft? I'll hit the girl!"

"Well, somebody's got to do something!" she shouted.

Mysa watched Brainiac 5 collapse and inhaled the stink of ozone and burning flesh before she realized she was the only Legionnaire conscious enough to do something. She turned and bit the inside of Savage's wrist.

With a snarl, he tossed her away and began to build a spell of destruction. "It's a shame I'll have to kill such talented and brave specimens, but you've ruined years of work I did, getting this stock out of England! I hope I'll have enough of you to get tissue samples!"

"No, Van. You won't, because your spell won't work. I finally figured out why you'd want to kill the Indians. They're _Homo magi_ , descendants of Atlantis, aren't they? Well so am I!" With that declaration, she shattered his spell and severely shook him.

"Earth-mother. Gaia...Maru  
Mother to ten thousand worlds  
Heed your star-born granddaughter--"

Mysa chanted. Jan heard her through the dazed fog in his mind and began to concentrate on the air around Vandal Savage. Nitrogen and oxygen began to compress and shift into an iron coffin around the eons-old man. Mysa's singsong told the planet who Van Sabitch truly was and the ground reached up and pulled the coffin into its cool, dark depths.

The Croatoans, and the English who were with them, charged into the compound and began asking loved ones what happened and if they were all right. Brainiac 5 crawled over to Jan. "That was one hell of a piece of teamwork. Can you please stop trying to enhance your reputation for last-second miracles?"

"I'm glad to see you're all right, too, Brainy," Jan replied with a wan smile.

The Croatoan priests and magicians were conferring with the Witch. "We must bind the demon," they decided.

"How will that affect us?" Ananais asked worriedly.

"The land will become tainted. You will have to leave," Manteo told him after conferring with the priests.

"Where will we go? We can't go back to England!"

"We would help you move elsewhere on the island, but we are leaving. The storms are getting worse and it's time to move inland. You're welcome to become part of our tribe; even now you've almost become part of us."

"We'll have to discuss your generous offer, King Manteo, but I'm sure we'll take it. After all, where else do we have to go?"

His wife touched his shoulder. "Ananais? My father--he won't know where we went."

"He'll know we went with Manteo's folk. We'll leave a sign and bury his belongings under it." He gave her a comforting hug. "We'll start gathering our things as soon as possible." He glanced at the townsfolk helping Jan and Querl to their feet. "But that probably won't be until tomorrow."

Lightning flared through the window of John White's house, followed by thunder and a clatter that was much more Earthbound. Jan's eyes fluttered open as he identified the second noise as Brainiac 5 rummaging through the governor's trunk again. The Coluan pulled out a knife and shut the truck. He was almost out of the house when Jan asked, "Where are you going?"

Querl looked almost embarrassed. "I wanted to get a sort of peace offering for Mysa. I need to learn how to respond to her. I hope you're right about the idea that she'll accept anything from me, including apologies."

"So do I. You've got my support and well-wishes," Jan told him.

Querl nodded and hesitated before jumping out into the storm. "Jan, I'm not sure we did any good. Even with Savage gone, the Amerind population is still going to be nearly destroyed in a century."

"But not completely and not maliciously. Sometimes we have to accept small victories."

"I suppose. I just hope it's big enough to be worth the cost," Brainiac 5 muttered as he left.

"It has to be," Jan whispered as he pulled himself out of the bed. He rubbed his face and went to find Mysa. She was beside a tree, the water streaming down her flattened hair and robe. "What are you doing, besides getting wet?"

"This is the _croaat_ , part of the demon-binding spell. We're using English letters in case John White sees this." She stopped for a moment and brushed the dirt and water off her face with the back of her hand. "This is my second tree. It's hard to carve words with a knife." She added a couple of touches on the "r" with her knife, and began carving the "o".

"Do you think we succeeded?" Jan asked her, needing some reassurance.

"Van Sabitch has been stopped. These people are now free and their neighbors are safe from destruction by his hand. We solved the riddle posed here and acted together, despite our fears for ourselves. Yes, I think we succeeded. It's up to the being or beings who brought us here to retrieve us."

"I hope they decide to do that soon. I'm getting soaked."

"Then go back inside. As much as it's nice to talk to someone, you're not needed right now. "

"Mysa, are you going back to the Sorcerers' World?"

"Do you mean if we get back to our own time? I don't know."

"I'm hoping that if we're marooned here we won't break up. Since I was a child, the Legion's been my only family. And you and Brainy are a part of that. In fact, you may be all that's left if he's right. I don't want to lose you."

"That's sweet of you, Jan. I can understand that it was not only fear for my safety that made me your 'sister'."

She glanced across the woods and saw Querl carrying two branches of dogwood blossoms, and nearly started crying. When did he find out about her love for the blossoms? Of course, he saw the ones she dragged into Raleigh when Vandal Savage dragged her.

"I'm hoping to clone them. They shouldn't stay lost forever," he explained, and held out the branches to her. As she touched them, lightning crashed into some nearby trees and then sought them. Through the pain, they realized they were going home.

end.

**Epilogue:**

John White returned to the city of Raleigh on August 15, 1590, his granddaughter's third birthday. He discovered the fence, and his belongings unburied and ruined. The only signs of his family and friends were the words "Croatoan" and "Cro" carved into a pair of trees. As he tried to sail to find them, a storm blew him off course and he--along with the rest of the world--never discovered the fate of the Lost Colony.

**Author's Note:**

> FYI: The information about Raleigh is based on the histories of the colony. There was indeed a Czech apothecary who was with the colonists and lost as well. Many of the customs ascribed to the Indians were the customs that John White recorded in his first journeys to the "New World." As for the Legion's mysterious appearance in this era, this story was written as a chapter of a round robin for _Interlac_ 100, where Glorith and the Time Trapper decided to play a game to determine who would rule the Five Years Later universe, and used Legionnaires from the _Adventure_ Era, the Levitz Era and the Gap Era as their pawns.


End file.
